


Arms of a Friend

by cutelittlekitty



Series: Heavenly Body [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU-modern setting, Anal Sex, Bottom!Gabriel, Infidelity, Karaoke, Multi, Sabriel - Freeform, Top!Sam, introspection (finally)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-21 04:53:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14908721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cutelittlekitty/pseuds/cutelittlekitty
Summary: As Sam lets himself into Dean's apartment, he looks around, hoping Dean is asleep in his bed rather than on the couch.  It's nearly midnight, so he should be in the clear."And just where have you been, young man?" Dean says sternly as the lamp on the end table clicks on, illuminating him.  Sam freezes, guilt written across his face in bold, blush-colored letters.  Dean bursts out laughing.  "Dude, you should see your face!""Damn it, Dean, that wasn't funny!""Are you kidding me?  That was fuckin' hilarious!  Man, I shoulda gotten a picture!"AN:  Dear Sam:  It's a river.  It's in Egypt.  And you've been swimming in it far too long.  Time to get out and warm up; don't worry, I'm sure Gabe'll be glad to help with that ;D





	Arms of a Friend

Staring at his booted feet propped up on Dean's coffee table, Sam thinks he should probably remove them; the apartment isn't really a 'shoes off' kind of place, but considering he eats there he might want to be concerned about sanitation. Yeah, he ought to care; about that, about school, about finding his own place so Dean can have his crappy apartment back (not that he needs it; Dean's apparently been spending most of his time at Cas's). But Sam just can't bring himself to care about much of anything. Somehow he managed to make it through finals, though he honestly can't say how well he did. Probably didn't fail. General courses are so easy he could pass them in his sleep, which he pretty much did. How is this his life? Hadn't he had a plan? When did things go so wrong?

 

*****

 

Sam gazes out the window without really seeing the sun-washed clouds. Though his shoulders are sore and he's still a bit tired, he doesn't ache like he did after the first night with Gabe. At least, his muscles don't ache. The sendoff this morning however, that left him hurting a bit in a different way, though he isn't quite sure why. Something in Gabe's face, though it's not like Sam hasn't been gazing into those intense hazel eyes every time they screwed. Maybe because Gabe wasn't looking down or over his shoulder at him. It was the first time he'd been hovering over the smaller man who looked somehow vulnerable in the position, though he was still in charge. As directed, Sam had fucked him slow and deep, lips finding lips again and again as they languidly swallowed each other's moans. It had been... unexpectedly intimate. And long. By the time their slowly building passion erupted and the waves of after-pleasure had finished sweeping through them, Sam was barely able to get in a shower before he had to go. That, and an extended good-bye kiss that was both too long and not nearly long enough. And then a last reminder to take time on the 5 hour flight to ask himself the right questions. 

He knows what he wants; a stable, middle-class life. The other questions are who, when, where, why and how. Who? Jess, obviously. When? As soon as possible. Where? They'd have to live in California; not just because Sam was starting the law program at Stanford this fall, but because Jess hates cold and snow, loves the sun, and would never move away from her friends and family. He'll just have to get used to five hour flights. And Dean likes driving, maybe he'll be ok with coming to visit. So; who, what, when, where... why. Why? Why what? Why Jess? Why so soon? Why stability? He grew up continually moving around, things always changing, nothing consistent in his life except the big brother who was always there to protect him. Even though they're almost a continent apart, Dean's still there for him. But it's time for his brother to find his own happiness, to stop worrying about Sam. Maybe that's why the rush. Even so, he's planning on getting married sooner or later, so why not sooner? Like he told Dean, Jess is smart, kind and beautiful. She's also vivacious, has even more stamina than Sam, and likes to experiment sexually. Not to mention she has a decent sense of humor and likes his friends. He'd be a fool not to 'put a ring on it'. One question left; how? That's easy enough he thinks, patting the black velvet box resting in his pocket. Of course, he has to tell her first. That he was experimenting during his visit. 

He doesn't think she'll mind; she's always encouraging sexual experimentation. And hell, she's been asking for a threesome for quite a while but he always balked at the idea of adding another guy into the equation. Sam's pretty sure he could do that now; give her that. He probably should have asked her first though; called her before he went to Gabe's. But then, he'd have had to know he _was_ going to Gabe's. And he didn't; not until he was supposed to turn left and kept going instead, following the sexy red Corvette. Never having been with a guy before, of course Sam had spent the whole night thinking about accepting Gabe's offer, but when he left the Blue Diamond he really had been planning on returning to the hotel. Hadn't he? He had. Right? Oh! Pheromones; that must be it. Gabe's pheromones and his must be more compatible than most, causing a literal physical pull between them. Having only had one biology class so far he's not positive, but he thinks that's how that works.

Of course that isn't an excuse, just an explanation. But since he doesn't think Jess will blame him for experimenting, he shouldn't need an excuse. Thinking over various reactions Jess might have, scenes playing through his mind, the flight is over before he realizes. He's decided he'll tell Jess about Gabe in the car, and then propose over dinner tonight. Jess is picking him up, and they have reservations at a five star restaurant (even though the meal will cost him half a month's pay at least; Jess grew up in luxury and he's determined to give her the life she wants; besides, tonight is special). Given her height, her blonde hair is easy to spot once he's disembarked; it wreathes her face like a halo. Going to her, Sam sweeps Jess up into a spinning hug, kissing her cheek.

"Hey, I've missed you," he smiles.

"Yeah, seems like you were gone so much more than a week," she replies. That could be because they'd both been busy before he'd left, so hadn't seen much of each other for the past 6 weeks or so.

"I'm back now," he grins, looking her up and down. "Let's go grab my suitcase and get out of here; we have a lot to talk about."

"Yes, we do," she agrees, as someone comes up and grabs Sam's hand, shaking it.

"Sam the man, it's been ages. How've you been?"

"Brady? Wow, I wasn't expecting to see you here."

"Oh, I came with Jess to keep her company on the drive up," Brady smiles. 

He's Sam's best friend at Stanford, but Sam had been planning on talking with Jess on the drive back and Brady's presence puts a stopper on that. Still, they manage to chat pleasantly during the drive, and through dinner since Jess had apparently called several days ago to reserve an extra seat. When Jess starts to invite Brady over for drinks and dessert after dinner, Sam puts his foot down, mentioning he's been gone over a week and the couple needs some alone time. Silence fills the car as they head to Brady's and drop him off. But once Jess pulls away from the curb she starts in.

"What makes you think you have the right to decide what I'm doing tonight?" she demands.

"Me? We haven't seen each other in over a week and you invite someone to crash our romantic reunion dinner, and _I'm_ the one making unfair decisions? Jess, we need to talk, and we can't do that with Brady there."

"Why not?"

"Jess, is it so strange for me to want to spend some time with you? Alone?"

Taking a deep breath, Jess says "Sorry. I know we need to talk, I just... kinda wanted Brady there for it."

"Well, I don't. He may be my best friend, but we need to get things settled before we tell anyone else."

"I know, I just wanted the support," Jess mumbles.

"What?"

"Nothing."

 

*****

 

Sam helps Jess out of her coat, hanging it next to his own on her coat rack, then takes off his shoes.

"Wine?" Jess asks, heading to the kitchen.

"Sure, whatever you're having," Sam replies. He prefers beer, of course, but Jess's refined tastes run more toward wine and champagne. Loosening his tie, he goes over to the couch and takes a seat. When Jess comes in, glass in each hand, he stands, taking them from her and setting them on the coffee table, then waits for her to sit. "So," he says, sitting back down and turning toward her. "There are a couple of things we need to discuss."

"Yes, Sam, I- there's something I need to discuss with you too."

"Oh. Well, ladies first."

"Well, it's... I'm not sure where to start. You remember a few months ago, I was asking about a threesome?" Jess asks.

"What a coincidence; that's part of the first thing I wanted to talk to you about."

"I think I can do it now" Sam says.  
"We did it without you" Jess says concurrently.

"Wait, what?" they both say at the same time.

"What do you mean you 'did it without me', how is that a threesome?" Sam demands.

"I really wanted to know what it'd be like with him, and you and I have barely seen each other lately, and I didn't think you'd ever agree to... wait, what makes you think you can do it now?" Jess asks suspiciously.

"I... I kinda... tried it."

"A threesome? With who?"

"No, no, not a threesome. Jess, I don't want any woman but you. I meant I tried sleeping with a guy... twice. It... wasn't too... actually, it was kinda good," Sam blushes.

"Oh my god, are you gay? Is that why-"

"What? No! I'm just... open-minded? Heteroflexible? Bi? Not sure what the term is, but definitely not gay. Not that there's anything wrong with being gay, just, I definitely like women. You, specifically. Hold on, weren't we talking about your two-person threesome?"

Jess blushes. Not her usual, cute, flushed cheeks blush, but a deep red that extends from the tip of her ears down to the neckline of her blouse. "Sam, I... ... ... " her pause extends far longer than it should, but Sam can't bring himself to interrupt. "I ... I didn't want to say this before your trip because I wanted you to have a good time, but... Brady and I are dating."

"Wait, you're two-timing me? With Brady?"

"Says the guy who slept with someone else, twice, while away on a trip? Who does that? I mean, you're not the kind of guy who goes for casual encounters, right? And I'm not two-timing anyone. I haven't slept with you since the first night with Brady. Like I said, I didn't want to ruin your trip. But hey, apparently maybe I should have. You could have enjoyed yourself more without having to worry about what I'd think."

"That's not-"

"Stop. Just... take a deep breath. We both need to calm down," Jess interrupts, and Sam does, taking long, deep breaths. "Now, calmly and rationally; you have to have known things have been off between us for months now, long before there were any... outside influences. I know how perceptive you are."

"Well, yeah, Jess, but I thought... I thought it was just because it was so hard to find time to spend together," Sam explains.

"Partly, maybe, but Sam, when two people love each other, they Make the time. When is the last time you said you loved me? Or even thought it?"

"That's... when I got off the plane," Sam shrugs.

"You said you missed me."

"But I thought how beautiful you looked the way your hair framed your face like a halo."

"Neither of those are exclusive to someone you love. Anyone can look pretty, and I'm sure you missed Brady and your other friends too," Jess points out.

"Jess..." Sam says, getting up and going to his coat to pull the black box from his pocket. "I spent most of the flight thinking about you; about how to ask you." He tosses the box to her. "Doesn't that say I love you?"

Opening the box to look inside, she gives Sam a sad smile, closing it back up and setting it on the coffee table. "So, knowing things weren't right between us and thinking it was because we weren't spending enough time together, you thought giving me a ring would fix it?"

"No, of course that wouldn't just fix it. But I thought, if we got engaged, we could move in together, spend more time with each other, really work on the relationship."

"Oh, Sam... you don't get engaged in order to work on the relationship, you get engaged because the relationship works," Jess says, and Sam finds himself thinking he knew she was smart, but he'd never realized she was so wise.

"Weren't we happy together? Don't you think we're worth putting some effort into?" Sam asks.

Jess stands up, facing Sam squarely. "Yes, of course we were happy together. But when we started drifting apart, having trouble making time for each other, did you ever... did you ever feel like you just had to see me, no matter what time or what you were doing? Heck, we could have called each other every night, just to hear each other's voice, but we didn't because we never had that pull between us. But I feel it with Brady. It's not in my nature to... to cheat; to not invest myself fully in the relationship I'm in, but with Brady, we just... we couldn't stay away from each other. We didn't want it to happen, and neither of us ever, _ever_ wanted to hurt you, but... we just couldn't help it. I know I've never felt like that with you, although I do love you. And I think, if you examine your feelings objectively, you'll find you've never felt that strongly about me either. Have you?"

"I... I thought we were good together. I thought we could build a comfortable life together."

"But, Sam, you and I both deserve a _happy_ life. Not just a 'comfortable' one."

"So, you're saying this is it then?" Sam asks. The dry prickling in his eyes is _not_ drawing moisture. He is _not_ about to cry. It's just the wine he hasn't drunk; it's gone to his head.

"I'm really sorry, Sam," Jess whispers.

Turning and walking swiftly toward the door, because he's _not_ running away, he shoves his shoes on, not bothering with laces, grabs his jacket and opens the door.

"Wait, Sam, your ring," Jessica calls.

"Keep it!" Sam says, shutting the door firmly behind him. 

Exiting the apartment building as quickly as possible without running, he gets to the sidewalk and shrugs his coat on, then sets out, jogging. It doesn't matter where he goes, he just has to leave. Hours later he stops in a moonlit park, collapsing onto a bench. What the fuck happened? Jess... with Brady? _Brady._ He's supposed to be Sam's best friend. How could he go behind his back? How could he not tell him? How could _they_ not tell him? How did Sam not see it? Sam always thought he was good at understanding people, how could he miss something that big? Maybe he's never really been good at reading people at all. Maybe he only thought he was. What if, his whole life, he's been thinking he understood people when he was just going by his own flawed assumptions? He feels a sudden, irrational urge to get drunk; to get so shit-faced it wipes this whole night from his mind. But he won't do that; he's not John. Sighing, he gets up, wincing as his feet pick now to tell him that jogging for hours in loosely tied dress shoes really isn't such a great idea. Pulling out his phone, he calls a cab, then sits back on the bench, watching the road 'til the taxi pulls up and takes him back to his dorm.

 

*****

 

"Hey, boots off the table."

"Dean!" Sam exclaims, jerking his feet off the table. "What're you doing here?"

"Umm... I live here, remember?" Dean smirks.

"Yeah, but you've been staying with Cas."

Dean shrugs. "He needs a breather. I'm sleeping here tonight. Don't worry, I'll take the couch."

"Don't tell me the whirlwind romance is already hitting the rocks?"

"Of course not, don't be stupid," Dean says, rolling his eyes. "Cas just isn't used to sharing his space. Sometimes he needs time alone."

"I thought you two were madly, hopelessly in love?"

"We're very much in love. Doesn't mean we don't need time to ourselves now and then. Didn't you an- shit, sorry, Sammy," he apologizes as Sam flinches at the unsaid name.

"That's not a good example; apparently we weren't doing things right," Sam frowns.

"Sam," Dean says, sitting on the other end of the couch, "you've been back over a week now. I've left it 'cause I figured you needed time, but... when I called, you said you'd talk about it when you got back but you've just been moping around; haven't left the apartment, and you still haven't said what happened. C'mon, Sam, you can talk to me. I'm not fishin' for juicy details here, I just want to help you and I can't if I don't really know what's wrong."

"I told you, she was already dating someone else before I even left, just didn't want to 'ruin my trip' by telling me beforehand. I can't explain any more than that because I don't even understand it myself."

"So you're just going to spend the whole summer moping around my apartment? Not that I mind you staying with me, at all, I just don't want you to waste your whole summer wallowing away here."

"I'm not 'wallowing', I just 'need a breather'. I'll start looking for a job in a week or two, and as soon as I save up some money I'll look for a place near the university."

"A place? University? Wait, Sammy, are you moving here? Like permanently?" Dean asks, looking like he just got Christmas and his birthday all at once.

"I applied for scholarship a month ago and they offered a full ride, so yeah. Changing majors too."

"Wait, you're not going into law?"

"Nope. Journalism."

"Journalism? Why?"

"Just needed a change," Sam says evasively.

"Well, it's great that you're making plans. But... if you still aren't ready to deal with... things, maybe it's a bit soon to be making the big life changes. Like moving across the country or changing career goals?" Dean asks, trying to phrase the suggestion in a way that won't make Sam think he disapproves. Because Dean would love nothing more than to have Sammy back home. Plus, he knows Sam's always liked writing, and journalism sounds a lot more fun than law.

"I'm working on dealing with things."

"Yeah, but I bet everything's been swimming around in your head for the past couple months and you haven't been able to deal with it on your own yet. Maybe a different perspective would help? I mean, if you don't want to talk to me, that's fine, but please talk to someone?"

"What, you want me to see a shrink?"

"That wasn't what I had in mind, but if you want, sure," Dean replies.

"What did you have in mind?"

"Charlie's good with relationship advice. Or Gabe. Bartenders spend lots of time talking people through problems."

Sam's breath catches at the name. Does Dean know Sam's been struggling not to go to the Blue Diamond ever since he got back? "Has he said anything about me?" Sam asks cautiously.

"Not really. Asks how you've been, which I can't really tell him since you haven't really told me," Dean scolds. "I know it's only seven, but the bar's open and Tuesdays are usually pretty slow. Go talk to him."

"Weren't you the one warning me to stay away from Gabe last time I was here? And now you want me to go talk to him?"

"If you'll recall, I think I said he's great as long as you're not screwing him," Dean points out. "Seriously, you two seem to get along and he really is good with advice."

Heaving a big sigh, Sam stands. "I think maybe I'll do that. I'll probably be out late; go ahead and sleep on the bed so I don't wake you when I come in."

 

*****

 

"Sam!" Gabe says, leaving the girl he'd been chatting up without a word to come over to the stool Sam had taken when he came in. "I was expecting you sooner. Dean said you were flying back last week."

"Yeah, I did, I've just... been trying to work through some stuff," Sam replies, ducking his head.

"Not having any luck?"

"Not really, no."

"Sam," Gabe says, laying a hand over his, then grabbing the hand, picking it up and examining it, "How much weight have you lost? Have you even been eating?"

Looking at the hand Gabe is examining, Sam realizes it's gotten a bit boney. "I eat," he protests weakly.

"What have you eaten today?" Gabe demands to know.

Sam opens his mouth to reply, then clicks it shut as he realizes he hasn't actually eaten yet today. He ate yesterday though; Dean brought him something from the Roadhouse along with a message from Ellen to 'show his face sometime soon or she's gonna march over to that apartment an' drag him out'.

"Hey, Pamela" Gabe calls, beckoning someone over from one of the booths. "You know that favor you owe me?" he asks when a smiling woman with dark, wavy hair comes over.

"I thought maybe you'd forgotten about that," she grins.

"Of course not. I never forget a debt; just like to save 'em for a rainy day."

"I don't see any clouds outside," Pamela points out.

"Oh, there're clouds," Gabe replies, eyes glancing toward Sam. "You busy tonight? Think you could watch the bar for a few hours?"

"Just catching up with an old friend," she replies, nodding toward the guy in the booth she was at. "We can do that across the bar though. But Gabe, you know I'm not a bartender."

"Bartender, shrink, same thing, really," Gabe shrugs.

"I prefer psychiatrist. And there's one rather important difference; drinks. I may know how to knock 'em back, but that doesn't mean I know how to make them."

Gabe pulls out a plastic box full of index cards and sets it on the counter. "That's what these are for. Anyone asks for a mixed drink, recipe should be in here. And if you can't find a recipe or aren't comfortable making something, just ask the customer to pick something else. Besides, it's Tuesday. Shouldn't be very busy."

Sam watches the exchange curiously, then shakes his head as realization hits. "Gabe, we can talk here, there's no need to leave the bar."

"Not a chance. For one thing, you need my undivided attention. For another, and more importantly, I don't serve food here and you are going to eat."

"Don't worry about it; I've got this," Pamela says, patting Sam on the shoulder as she heads behind the bar and beckons her friend over from their booth. "You two go on, and take your time."

Gabe gives her a quick explanation of prices as they exchange places, telling her if she's not sure, just charge a dollar; he's not worried about profit tonight and would rather under than over charge. Pamela waves as Gabe ushers Sam out the door.

"You got the same rental?" Gabe asks as he sees the 2006 black Dodge Charger parked next to his Corvette.

"Bought it," Sam smiles. "It's got a lot of miles and a few years on it, but it's been well kept and the price was good. Besides, I kinda got attached last time."

"So, your car or mine?"

"What, already tired of me following you?" Sam teases.

"Not even close," Gabe grins. "But there's no sense wasting gas."

"Well, then, if we're going for fuel economy we should probably take mine. If you don't mind letting me drive."

"Hey, haven't I always let you drive?"

Sam laughs. "Not really, you just drive from the back seat."

"Maybe a little," Gabe laughs.

"Maybe a lot," Sam corrects. "Come on, get in," he adds, hitting the automatic door lock and getting in the driver's side. 

Gabe gets in the passenger seat and buckles up. 

"See, I knew you didn't trust my driving," Sam teases as he fastens his own seatbelt.

"Hey, I trust you; don't mean I'm not gonna use protection," Gabe grins.

"I know there's a response I want to make to that, but I'm too busy imagining things right now," Sam says a bit distractedly as he turns the key and the engine purrs to life.

"Hmm, now I know what we're doing for your birthday," Gabe teases. "When is that, by the way?"

"May 2nd. Yours?"

"September 4th. No fair, I've already missed yours this year."

"There's always next year," Sam shrugs. "By the way, where exactly are we going?" he asks as he gets to the parking lot's driveway and doesn't know which way to turn.

"Turn right," Gabe directs.

Sam does, and follows his directions all the way to the freeway where they get off a few exits before the one to Gabe's house.

"I know it's a ways out, but the food here is great," Gabe says as they park and head into the building.

Sam looks around the half-full restaurant. There don't seem to be any secluded booths or tables open. "Hey, Gabe... could we maybe get something to go? We could eat in the car, or at your place, if you want."

"Sure, Sam. Sorry, it's not usually this busy when I come here, but that's probably because it's usually the middle of the afternoon. Forgot Eight would still be in the dinner rush."

They look over the menus and Sam decides on a chicken salad, but Gabe makes him change it to a dinner, so he gets grilled chicken with a baked potato, house veggie, and a side salad. Gabe gets an omelette with hash browns and toast, extra strawberry jelly. Once the food's ready, Gabe insists on paying and then they drive the last fifteen minutes to Gabe's house. They wind up in the kitchen, the food on nice plates since Gabe refuses to eat out of the styrofoam, seated at the table.

"So, what's been keeping you too preoccupied to eat?" Gabe asks as they start in on the food.

Sam shrugs. "I take it Dean told you what happened with... with Jess?"

"Nope. Just that you were coming back for the summer. I figured if you wanted me to know you'd tell me yourself."

"Oh. Well, it turned out she'd been dating my best friend for weeks and hadn't told me yet 'cause she 'didn't want to ruin my trip'," Sam says bitterly as he picks at his food.

"So you had still been planning to propose?" Gabe asks, voice lacking his usual joviality.

"Yeah. I mean, I thought about it the whole flight back; asked the other questions like you suggested. I listed off all the qualities I liked about her. I realized the reason I wanted to get engaged sooner was so Dean didn't have to keep worrying about me but since I know I want to get married eventually there wasn't any reason not to do it right away. I conceded that I'd have to live in California because Jess would never move here. I asked why for all the questions, but just now I kinda added the whys in. And the how was by proposing which I was going to do at the five-star restaurant we had reservations for, but Jess had already changed the reservation to three people so Brady could come."

"Sam, not to be critical, but... it doesn't sound like you were being very objective. You were giving yourself reasons to follow your original plan. You listed off what you liked about Jess, but did you ask yourself what you disliked about her? Or if someone else might have those same qualities?"

"Other than her winding up falling in love with someone else, there wasn't anything I disliked about her," Sam replies defensively.

"No offense, but I think that means you didn't know her very well. Everyone has things they like and don't like about anyone they know well. I could give you a long list of things I like about you right now, but there are still things I dislike and I'm sure you could do the same for me."

"But we haven't been dating for eight months," Sam points out.

"Yet," Gabe says with a half-hearted eyebrow wriggle. "Even so, the lists would get longer, not shorter."

"Yet? Are you saying that could ever happen, mister king-of-one-night-stands?" Sam teases.

"Haven't you already realized you're an exception?" Gabe replies seriously. "And you'd better start eating or no dessert," he adds teasingly.

Obediently taking a bite of chicken, Sam thinks while he chews. Any time Gabe seems to come close to anything too real he covers it up with a joke, so Sam has never taken him too seriously. But maybe his joking is just a defense mechanism. Not that Sam's any good at reading people, as he learned with Jess and Brady. He's probably way off. Besides, he only said Sam was an exception to the one-night rule, not that he wanted anything more. By the time he thinks of something to say, the chicken is almost gone.

"The girl you were chatting with when I came in... were you planning on taking her home tonight?" he asks casually, not sure why he's asking. At least, he's trying for casual.

"I was. Until you showed up. I told you before, any time you come in I'll take you home if you want," Gabe replies.

"So you're still taking someone new home every night?"

"Only the nights you're not around. And..." Gabe looks nervous and takes a big bite of hash browns to give him time to gather his courage. "Only women," he finishes once his mouth is empty.

"Really? I mean we haven't known each other long, but I got the impression that you preferred guys?"

"I do. I've just gotten a bit picky."

"Picky how?"

"6'5", longish shaggy brown hair, pretty hazel eyes, broad shoulders, toned stomach, sweet ass, long legs, smart, open minded, trusting, willing to experiment, insightful about other people but not good at introspection, laughs at my jokes... Know any guys like that?"

Sam blinks. "Maybe. Are you saying if you found a guy like that you'd stop the one-night-stands?"

Gabe sighs. "I wouldn't sleep with any other guys. But there are a couple problems with exclusivity. See, growing up, most people say the youngest kid gets spoiled, right? Not me. Our parents were so focused on Mike's achievements and Luke's rebelliousness, and keeping Mike and Luke from killing each other, they barely knew Raph and I were there. Not that we were completely neglected; we had a nanny. But Raph was always getting in fights so that took a lot of her attention. Eventually I started clowning around and I got more attention, but... ... ... I was still lonely. Middle of eleventh grade a new student transferred in from India, Kali. She somehow managed to see me as more than just the class clown. Sorry, this is a bit of a long story. Finish your potato. And here, eat the rest of this too," he adds, pushing what's left of his omelette and hash browns toward Sam, though he keeps his toast and jam for himself. "Where was I? Oh, right. Kali. So yeah, we started dating, started screwing, both got pretty serious. As we started college and began spending nights together, I realized I loved sleeping with someone. Not just the sex, I mean sleeping with someone in my arms. Or in someone's arms. Then Kali tells me she's already engaged; prearranged marriage set up by their parents. She's planning to go through with it and move back to India but we can still fuck whenever she's in the states. I told her she could go fuck herself. We'd been together four years by then, she couldn't have mentioned being engaged when we hooked up? By then I was so used to sharing my bed I couldn't sleep alone. So I started taking home anyone I could. At first it didn't matter if I'd taken them home before, but then some started getting attached, or expecting exclusivity; it got to be too much trouble, and thus, the birth of the one-night rule. The nights I couldn't find anyone I didn't sleep at all; eventually I dropped out of college and my brothers helped me get this bar. There haven't been many sleepless nights since. Probably more in the last 2 months than the last however-many years. So that's the very long story behind the first reason I might have trouble with exclusivity. The other reason's a lot shorter; much as I love getting fucked, every once in a while I need to be the one doing the fucking."

"Gabe, that's... wow. I'm really sorry I never realized you were so lonely. I must suck at reading people even more than I thought. First Jess and Brady, now you. Guess I don't know anyone who matches your type then; I'm pretty sure insightful was on the list."

"Actually you came pretty close to calling me out on being lonely the first night you met me. Besides, I've had years of practice hiding it behind joviality so no one's ever realized except maybe Kali and I hadn't had as much practice back then. But even without knowing I was lonely, you knew what I needed and gave it to me. Oh, that's another one for the list; empathetic. I knew that before I even met you; picked up on it from how Dean talked about you," Gabe replies.

"What do you mean? How?" Sam asks.

"He's told me lots of stories about when you were growing up. Like one time, when you were 11 or 12, Dean was trying to decide when to give you 'the talk', and then noticed you were always 'playing happy', I think he called it, around him. Like acting happy, not badly or anything, but acting happy when he knew you weren't. So he got worried because you weren't usually like that and he went to the library and spent days and days looking up symptoms for various mental and physical conditions that could cause abnormal behaviors and all the while, you were acting more and more chipper to the point where he was almost ready to take you to the emergency room, Dad and cost be damned. But he waited until he knew what other symptoms to look for, because everything he researched had more than one symptom, and he took his researched list home and began watching you for any other signs. But rather than finding anything else new, you went back to normal so he did all that research for nothing."

"Huh. I think I actually remember that."

"Let me guess; at the time, you noticed Dean was looking stressed, so you acted happier around him to try to make things easier because you knew how much he had on his shoulders. And when he started spending days at the library, which was out of character for him, you got more worried and tried to act happier. Which stressed him more, which worried you more, and so on and so forth."

Sam laughs. "Yeah, pretty much. Though I never knew what was stressing him out."

"See? Empathy."

"Or guilt over him missing out on his childhood because of me."

"You know that wasn't your fault, right? You were just a kid."

"Yeah, but so was Dean. Anyway, how did we get on this subject? Seems like we wandered off topic."

"Hmm... I was adding empathetic to my list. And I'm not taking insightful off, because you are; you've just lost confidence in your intuition."

"So... are you saying if I came home with you every night, you wouldn't ever take anyone else home with you?" Sam asks.

"If... if you'd be ok with, not right away, but at some point, maybe letting me top? Not all the time; just once in a while? Then, yeah, absolutely," Gabe replies, running a finger lightly up and down Sam's forearm.

"You're used to variety and you've only slept with me twice. Don't you think you'd get bored after a week, or a month, or a year?"

Gabe grins. "Technically, we've had sex way more than twice. And no, I don't think I'd get bored with you. Otherwise, there never would've been a second night. And there hasn't been a night since we've met that I haven't wished you were the one with me."

"Really?"

"Really. In fact... I've been thinking how great it would be if you just moved in with me. I mean, we could just try it for a week or two at first, see how it goes. Then, if it works as well as I think it will, we could make it permanent. If you want," Gabe suggests, smiling at the way a shiver goes through the arm his fingers are brushing over.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, I know you're eager to start building a life with someone; why can't that someone be me? Are there any boxes on your list I don't check off? And don't say kids, because we can always adopt or get a surrogate."

Sam blinks. Then he thinks. Smart? check. Kind? check. Attractive? check. Likes to experiment sexually? check, check and another check, because... yeah. Stamina? another double check. Vivacious? not in the same way as Jess, but he's cheerful and flirty, so Sam counts that as a check. Laughs at his jokes? check. Likes his friends? Sam doesn't have friends here yet, other than Dean's friends by extension, but Gabe and Dean have apparently been friends a while, and family counts a lot more than friends. As for what he wants in life; house, multiple cars, spouse and kids, pets... "How do you feel about pets?" he asks. It's not a huge sticking point, but Sam really would like a dog or two at some time; preferably big ones.

Gabe laughs. "That the only question?"

"Hey, I'd really like dogs at some point. Maybe not 'til after college, but eventually."

"Dogs, huh? I'm more of a cat person myself, but dogs are ok too. Maybe we could have both? College, though... I forgot about that. Maybe we'll have to wait? Because I can't go months at a time without sleeping while you're in California," Gabe says, face falling.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't tell you. I've already decided to transfer to the university here. And I'm changing my major to Journalism. Thinking I might try being an investigative reporter. I can't believe I haven't even mentioned that; it's why Dean suggested I talk with you today in the first place; he thinks I shouldn't be making big life changes right now," Sam says, rolling his eyes.

"So you only came to see me today because Dean told you to?" Gabe asks, the excitement at hearing Sam's planning to change schools quickly dying.

Blushing, Sam says, "It was an excuse. Honestly, I've been talking myself out of going to see you every day, because I didn't think it was right when I still didn't understand what happened with Jess. But the second Dean gave me a reason I was out the door and in the car. Actually, even when I was in California I was thinking about you most days. We should have exchanged numbers before I left, but I guess I didn't think it would be fair to you when I was expecting to get engaged. You know, Jess said there was this... irresistible pull between her and Brady; that they'd tried to fight it and couldn't. And when she said she'd never felt that pull between us, it's true I hadn't felt it with her either. At the time I was too upset to process what she was saying. But that pull... I think that's what I felt the first time I followed you home. I kept meaning to turn, head toward the hotel, but then I'd just go on following. The whole visit I'd have trouble sleeping and go for a walk and even after the first time when I realized my wandering was leading towards you, even when I told myself I wasn't going to walk that way, I'd take a different route but still find myself eventually going toward the Blue Diamond. I don't know if that's love, but I do know I always seem to want to be with you," Sam concludes, realizing as he's talking that he actually said Jess's name twice, and Brady's, without any pain.

Gabe leans over and kisses him, and Sam pushes his empty dishes out of the way so he can get closer, deepening the kiss. Sam has missed Gabe over the past seven weeks, but he doesn't realize how much until the moment their lips meet. The kiss is slow and intimate, the underlying need waiting patiently for each to realize the depth of their bond. Eventually Gabe breaks away for air, eyes gazing at Sam in wonder and hope. "Bedroom?" he breathes.

Nodding, Sam lets Gabe guide him toward the stairs, hand that had been tracing patterns over Sam's skin now warm against his, palm to palm, fingers laced together. Just before they reach the stairs, Sam remembers something and pauses. "Gabe... aren't we supposed to be getting back to the bar? You only asked your friend to say a few hours, right?"

"Damn. Forgot," Gabe frowns, then shrugs. "Ah, well. What's more important, sex, or my livelihood and possibly losing an old college friend?"

"Sex, obviously," Sam laughs. "but we should probably pick the other thing anyway."

Gabe sighs. "Probably. But only if you're gonna come back here after the bar closes."

Grinning, Sam says, "Sure. And I can run over to Dean's and grab my things."

"Things for a day or two, or all your things?" Gabe asks, raising an eyebrow.

"There's not much difference, but yeah, all my stuff," Sam laughs.

"I think that just might be the sexiest thing anyone's ever said to me," Gabe grins. "You sure we can't just stay here?"

"Livelihood? Old friend?" Sam reminds as they head to the car.

"Oh. Right." Gabe says, following Sam to the driver's side. When Sam turns to ask if he really thinks he's gonna be driving Sam's car, Gabe pins him against the door, pulling him down by his shirt collar 'til they're equal height and kissing him passionately. Rocking against Sam's arousal, he claims Sam's mouth, skilled tongue leaving the taller man moaning breathlessly as a flame of passion rages through his body in less than a minute. And then, just as suddenly as he started, Gabe is gone. Sam blinks, trying to catch his breath.

"Coming?" Gabe's voice asks from the other side of the car, then Sam feels the car jostle and the door close.

After a deep, shaky breath, Sam gets in and starts the car. "You are cruel, you know that?"

"Hey, you started it; getting me all turned on in the kitchen then having the nerve to remember some absurd reason we have to leave," Gabe teases.

Sam just shakes his head as he backs out of the drive. "You do know I'll get you back for this, right?"

"I'm counting on it," Gabe grins, eyebrows waggling. "Put your belt on."

"Yes, Mom," Sam replies, rolling his eyes as he buckles up, more to stop the stupid car from dinging at him than because Gabe said so.

 

*****

 

"You two are back early" Pamela says as Sam and Gabe enter.

"See, we had time, we could've stayed," Gabe complains.

"Gabe, if we had stayed we wouldn't have made it back tonight at all," Sam points out.

Pamela laughs. "I wasn't really expecting you back. A guy like you, I didn't think he'd let you out of bed 'til after sunrise. After all, I sure as hell wouldn't."

"Hey, we just went to get food and talk," protests Sam, blushing.

"Oh, I don't plan on letting him go to _sleep_ 'til after sunrise. As for getting out of bed, I haven't decided when I'll allow that," Gabe smirks.

"Sure you can handle him?" Pamela teases. "Or you just gonna keep him up all night talking?"

"Well, I am going to keep him 'up' all night, and he'll definitely be using his vocal chords."

"Standing right here; not a piece of meat," Sam comments, waving to get their attention. Pamela and Gabe burst out laughing.

"Hey, if you don't want to be objectified, stop lookin' so damn hot," Pamela grins.

"Don't you dare!" Gabe interjects.

Sam laughs. "Hey, are you saying you only like me for my body?"

"Of course not," Gabe insists, feigning offense. "I like your mind and soul too. The packaging is just a bonus. But hey, if you don't want me to show you how much I appreciate your body..."

Sam shuts him up with a kiss, then pulls away, blushing. He wouldn't normally kiss like that in public, but Gabe seems to have a way of making him forget about anyone but him. "I'm gonna go grab my stuff before the blush becomes permanent," he grumbles, heading back out to his car.

 

*****

 

As Sam lets himself into Dean's apartment, he looks around, hoping Dean is asleep in his bed rather than on the couch. It's nearly midnight, so he should be in the clear.

"And just where have you been, young man?" Dean says sternly as the lamp on the end table clicks on, illuminating him. Sam freezes, guilt written across his face in bold, blush-colored letters. Dean bursts out laughing. "Dude, you should see your face!"

"Damn it, Dean, that wasn't funny!"

"Are you kidding me? That was fuckin' hilarious! Man, I shoulda gotten a picture!"

"Why the hell are you even still awake?" Sam asks, taking a flannel shirt from the back of a kitchen chair and folding it up as he heads into the living room.

"I wanted to know how talking with Gabe went."

"You were expecting me back tonight?"

Dean quirks an eyebrow. "Why wouldn't I? I know you slept with him the first night you met him. If the way you kept changing the subject whenever I brought up his name hadn't tipped me off, the just-been-laid glow woulda. Not to mention the morning-after-screamed-raw voice you answered with when I called you."

"And?" Sam asks, finding another flannel, folding it, and setting both shirts on the coffee table.

"And what? He wasn't exaggerating about taking someone new home every night; he actually has a rule about no repeats. He's like, famous for it. Or infamous, or whatever. Broken more hearts than-"

"Dean," Sam interrupts.

"What?"

"I slept with him the night before I left," Sam says, continuing to gather and fold his clothes, adding them to the stack.

"No way. There's no possible way you didn't screw him that first night," Dean insists.

"I did."

"You did screw him, or you did _not_ screw him?"

"Dean, I spent both the first and last nights of my visit with him," Sam says, not looking at his brother as he puts his suitcase on the couch and starts gathering the clean clothes onto one side so he can put the less clean ones on the other.

"Wait, are you saying you spent two nights with him?" Dean asks, eyes wide.

"What, you think just 'cause he's my first guy I couldn't have him begging for more?" Sam frowns.

"Ok, that's a mental image I did _not_ need or want. Sammy... geeze, if I'd known that I wouldn't have suggested you go talk to him today," Dean grumbles.

Grabbing his toiletries from the bathroom, Sam adds them into their section of the suitcase. "Why not? You were right, he's good with advice," he says, closing the case and zipping it.

Sound of the zipper drawing his attention, Dean looks more closely at what Sam has been doing. "Going somewhere?"

"I told you I was going to find a more permanent place to stay," Sam shrugs, checking the living room, bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen again to make sure he hasn't forgotten anything.

"Yeah, after you get a job and save up money. Where exactly are you planning on staying?" Dean asks suspiciously.

"With a friend," Sam shrugs, putting his running shoes into a grocery bag, tossing his coat over his arm, then grabbing his suitcase.

"Sammy, no. You are _not_ moving in with Gabe," Dean says firmly, beating Sam to the door and leaning against it.

"Dean, I'm an adult. And I'm bigger than you. Besides, Gabe's your friend; you know he's a good guy, so what's your problem with him?" Sam says, glaring at Dean and waiting for him to move.

"He never sleeps with the same person twice and I don't want him jerkin your chain," Dean replies, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Ever occur to you maybe he's not jerking my chain; maybe he actually _likes_ me?"

"Sam, look... I'm not sayin' he doesn't like you, but, Gabe has this way of making everyone feel special. That's why I warned you off him; I didn't want him hurting you too."

Sighing, Sam sets his suitcase and shoes down, lays his coat over the back of a kitchen chair, pulls it out and sits. "Dean, it's not like he intentionally hurts people; he's just too experienced at making people feel good. That's _why_ he doesn't sleep with people more than one night. But have you ever known him to tell anyone they're an exception to the rule? Ask them to move in? Promise to stop sleeping with anyone else?"

Dean comes over and takes a seat. "Really? Gabe? Never."

"Look; I know I messed up with Jess. I'm not gonna rush things with Gabe. Well, ok, moving in right away might seem like rushing, but, I'm not making the same mistake. The things I want in life, I can have with him. But we'll take it slow. For now, we're just going to try living together for a couple weeks. If it works, we'll continue; if not, we'll reevaluate. And this isn't a rebound thing; I liked him before I went back to California, I was just too focused on my 'plan' to admit it."

"Sam, I just don't want you to get hurt again. You've been torn up over Jess for two months. I've known Gabe for a long time and I've never seen him serious about anyone. What if... what if... I don't even want to talk about all the ways this could go wrong. You barely know each other."

"Hmm... gee, can't think of any other couples that jumped right in while barely knowing each other, can you?" Sam replies sarcastically.

"It's different with me and Cas. We love each other; he needs me, and I can't bear the thought of him getting hurt. Before we even started dating I was already imagining us having a life together. And I know he's not going to get tired of me or change his mind; it's not in his nature," Dean says defensively.

"And you want him to be happy, right?"

"Yeah. I love seeing him smile."

"So if he did change his mind, no matter how much it hurt, you'd let him go, right?"

"...If he really changed his mind and wasn't just running away again, if he really would be happier without me, then yeah. It'd hurt like hell, but I'd let him go."

"That's how I feel about Gabe. I like seeing him happy, I enjoy being around him, when we're apart I'm constantly having to stop myself from going to see him. Dean, I know you've known him a long time, but I don't think you really know him well," Sam explains.

"Of course I do. Well, I mean as well as anyone does. He seems pretty open, but he actually doesn't talk about himself much."

"In other words you don't know him well. He needs someone and he wants that person to be me. I know it might not last, but I want to try it. I'm not putting blinders on to try to fit him into my plan, I'm saying the plan can wait. For now, I just want to try being with him. I'm not a little kid anymore, Dean. I know what I'm getting into, and I know it could turn out to be a mistake, but if it is, then I'll learn. And if it's not, then I'll be happy. Very happy. But either way, it's my choice to try, not yours."

"Kid or not, you're always gonna be my little brother, and I'm always gonna worry about you. But you're right, you're free to make your own choice. Just give him a message from me, k?"

"Sure, Dean," Sam says, hugging his brother.

 

*****

 

"Dean said to tell you 'If you hurt my little brother I will hunt you down, and no one will ever find the body parts'. Sorry it took so long," Sam tells Gabe as he sits at the bar.

"I was starting to worry, but Dean being awake explains it. I take it he spent an hour telling you what a bad idea moving in with me would be?" Gabe asks.

"Pretty much. Like he has any room to talk. He and Cas have been pretty much shacking up since the second time they met."

"So did you point out to him we waited 'til the third time we met before deciding to shack up?" Gabe grins.

"Nah, I just gave him a few highlights on the benefits of living with you until he begged me to get the hell out," Sam smirks.

"Did you?" Gabe asks, laughing at the thought of Dean's reaction.

"No," Sam laughs. "But I wish I'd thought of it. I could've gotten back here a lot quicker. I just told him I'm a big boy and can make my own choices."

"You're definitely a _big_ boy," Gabe smirks.

"Too much for you?" Sam counters.

"Oh, I think I can handle you."

"Maybe. If you're good," Sam grins.

"You know I'm much better than good."

"Hmmm... not sure I remember. You might just have to remind me."

Gabe leans over the counter, grabbing Sam and pulling him close enough to claim his lips, kissing deeply until Sam gets over his shock and starts to kiss back, at which point Gabe releases him, stepping back and licking his lips. "You probably shouldn't say things like that," he grins before announcing last call.

As Sam watches Gabe making drinks he's hit with a disturbing thought, and soon as he returns Sam can't help voicing it. "Hey, Gabe... you've known Dean a long time, right?"

"A few years now, yeah. Why?"

"You and he haven't ever..." Sam asks, unable to voice the full thought.

"Oh, no, we've never hooked up. I mean, yeah, he's pretty hot, but when he first started coming in he had a girlfriend, and by the time he was available we were friends so we just never went there," Gabe replies.

Sam lets out a relieved breath. "Sorry, the thought just occurred to me and given your tastes seem to run toward attractive and willing..." he shrugs.

"I used to regret not having had the chance, but the moment I met you I was kinda glad nothing happened with him because I know how protective of you he is and if he and I had ever... he'd have forbidden me."

"And you would've listened to him?" Sam asks.

"I doubt I could've, but I would have hated losing a good friend." Gabe looks around as the door closes, realizing the last customer has gone. "Time to close up. Be right back," he says as he goes to check the bathrooms and storage room, then do a quick check over the booths, making sure there are no customers or personal items left behind. That done, he returns, taking Sam's hand and leading him toward the door.

"You're not gonna clean up or run reports or count the money?" Sam asks.

Gabe shrugs. "I do all that when I come in. Don't like to keep anyone waiting after close."

"I guess that makes sense, but shouldn't you at least put the money in the safe or something?"

"If someone's desperate enough to break in during the night they'd be getting into the safe anyway, so why bother? Besides, if they find money in the register maybe they won't look for the safe, or if they go right for the safe, they probably would assume the register is empty so either way they wouldn't take everything," he concludes as they reach their cars, parked next to each other, as usual. Or at least, as is becoming usual. "Race you home; winner gets choice tonight," Gabe grins, jumping into the Corvette, starting it up and pulling out.

"Hey, no fair!" Sam shouts, jumping into his Charger and following. They can't be too reckless in the city, but once they make the freeway they cut loose, and it isn't long before the Vette's taillights are far ahead. When Sam pulls up the driveway, Gabe is leaning against the back of the car, grinning.

"You cheated again," Sam accuses as he parks and gets out.

"Hey, I let you catch up before we got to the freeway. It's not my fault your car's not built for speed."

"Performance is more important than speed." Sam counters as he grabs his knapsack, suitcase, jacket and running shoes from the car.

"Can't argue with that," Gabe laughs, taking the suitcase from Sam and leading the way into the old farmhouse. "But I'm still picking tonight."

"Fine, but no-"

"I know, I know; not until you're ready. You know I'm not going to make you do anything you're not comfortable with," Gabe assures, kicking his shoes off then heading upstairs with Sam's suitcase.

Sam toes off his shoes and follows, surprised when Gabe goes through the door across the hall from his bedroom. Flipping the light switch, Gabe enters and sets the suitcase on the foot of the bed.

"You're putting me in a separate room?" Sam asks, setting the rest of his things next to the suitcase.

"I'm giving you your own space," Gabe shrugs. "Somewhere to keep your things and a refuge if you need time to yourself. And if you want to sleep in here you can, though the bed'll be a bit cramped with both of us," he grins.

Laughing, Sam says "Can I assume I'm always welcome in your bed?"

"As long as I don't already have someone else in there, sure," Gabe teases.

"Gabe," Sam admonishes.

"Ok, ok, you can just join in."

"Hmm... if your room's gonna be busy, guess I'll just sleep here every night." 

"You know I was just joking," Gabe relents, sliding his arms around Sam's waist.

"I know," Sam replies, kissing his forehead with a chuckle. "It seems to be your default setting."

"Would you like me to be serious?"

"Only when you want to," Sam grins.

Gabe smiles, grabbing Sam's hand and leading him to his bedroom and the king-sized bed waiting there. "Undress me?" he requests, turning to face Sam beside the bed.

Grinning, Sam slides his black vest off his shoulders, then slowly pulls the white tee over his head. Tan pants are next to go, and as much as he's enjoying slowly revealing skin, Sam can't help chuckling when he sees the Scooby Doo boxer-briefs. Gabe grins down at him, waggling his eyebrows as Sam kneels to take off his socks before pulling the cartooned underwear off. As he stands, Sam kisses Gabe's stomach, then traces kisses up his chest, across his clavicle and into his neck.

Gabe enjoys the attention, neck arching toward Sam's lips, practically purring. When Sam eventually pulls back to look at him, Gabe grins, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Your turn; strip for me. Nice and slowly." 

Sam complies, flashing teasing glimpses of firm abs before finally sliding the hem of his t-shirt slowly up his chest, then over his head and off his arms. Jeans are next, slowly unbuttoned and unzipped, sliding down. Focusing on the hungry gaze devouring every inch of flesh exposed, Sam can't be embarrassed. No one's ever looked at him quite that way before; predatory, needy, yet with an underlying tenderness that has Sam wondering how he missed seeing it before. Because it was there last time, silently begging Sam to stay, to realize how much Gabe wanted and needed him. And Sam had been so blinded by his 'plan' he hadn't been willing to see anything that didn't fit into the picture he'd already drawn. Once naked, he smiles at Gabe, who beckons him closer while scooting back so that Sam is being drawn toward the center of the bed, only able to lessen the distance between them when Gabe's head fetches up on a pillow. 

Putting his hands behind his head, Gabe watches, licking his lips, as Sam slowly crawls toward him. When Sam stops halfway up his body, leaning down to flick his tongue over Gabe's arousal while looking up at him through his lashes, Gabe draws in a sharp breath at the stimulation and smiles, nodding approval.

Watching the desire on Gabe's face, Sam has no hesitation. He doesn't need to ask this time, because he knows what will feel good and does it, taking in the hard length and working his tongue over it as his head bobs, alternately sucking and humming against the throbbing flesh. It isn't long before Gabe's low moans fill his ears and Sam thrills at the thought that those sounds of pleasure are his; he's the one drawing them forth. When Gabe's moans grow ragged and the length in his mouth is twitching toward climax, Sam pulls away, grinning as he slowly continues his journey up the smaller man's body, kissing and nipping his way up to Gabe's ear, where he whispers, "Your choice; what do you want?"

"A slow comfortable screw?" Gabe grins.

Chuckling, Sam gets the lube and a condom from the drawer as he says, "Hey, you're the bartender, shouldn't that be your job?"

"Any time you want one, it'll be my pleasure," Gabe replies, gasping as Sam slides a lubed finger into him, moaning as he adds a second, thrusting and scissoring, stretching.

Claiming the smaller man's mouth, Sam swallows his moans as he takes his time prepping Gabe, adding a third finger and continuing to work them in and out, occasionally thrusting them deep enough to send a tremor of pleasure through the body beneath his. Moans heavy with need, Gabe's hands are no longer under his head; they're roaming over Sam's back, pulling him closer as Sam's fingers withdraw, only to be replaced by his throbbing cock, pushing in slowly until it's buried to the hilt. Gabe's legs wrap around Sam's waist, subtly guiding his movements as the taller man begins rocking, slow and deep. Their mouths move together just as slowly, tongues languidly exploring, twining, thrusting, discovering, swallowing moans from both men as their bodies rock together, gradually stoking the rising heat within them.

"Gabe," Sam murmurs huskily as he breaks the kiss, pulling back just enough to take in all of the other man's face as his thrusts start to pick up speed; half-lidded eyes, flushed cheeks, tongue flicking over his lips as he gasps and moans. Every deep thrust sends shudders through the smaller man and Sam watches the pleasure washing over the features below him. Seeing how much Gabe is enjoying Sam's hard length moving inside him trips something in Sam and suddenly he wants more; wants to hear his name torn from Gabe's lips, wants him crying out as Sam pushes him over the edge. Abandoning the slow build altogether, Sam begins thrusting harder, deeper, faster, surprise registering on Gabe's features swiftly replaced by frenzied ecstasy as his voice cries out, slipping back into his usual pattern of directives.

"Fuck! Sam! Yeah, just like that! So good, you're so good, more! Don't hold back; come on, that's it, you're so close, aren't you? Fuck! Yeah! Fuck! Sam! That's it, babe! Right there! Harder! Give it to me, babe! Yes! Yes!" Gabe cries, fingers digging into Sam's back as orgasm begins to surge through him. "Now, Sam! Come for me!" And Sam does, hard. Arms and legs tightening, Gabe clings to Sam as they shudder together until the taller man's arms give out and Gabe is pressed under the greater weight. "Holy Fuck that was good," Gabe gasps as after-tremors wash through them, "but at some point, regrettably, I'm gonna need to breathe."

Groaning, Sam slides off him, pulling out as he sprawls onto his back. He's weak and trembling and thinking that has to be the best sex he's ever had. And Gabe, he'd loved the feel of Sam thrusting into him so much he'd come without even being touched. And this wasn't the first time that had happened. Sam found himself imagining their positions reversed. Suddenly the idea of letting Gabe top didn't seem so daunting.

"Welcome home," Gabe chuckles, smiling up at the ceiling. He knows they should be cleaning up, getting under the covers, but he can't seem to move. Apparently, Sam has that effect on him.

Sam's hand pulls itself over the bed 'til he finds Gabe's, twining their fingers together and squeezing.

Gabe gazes at Sam's profile from the corner of his eyes. "Can I take it you enjoyed that?" he asks.

Sam just squeezes his hand.

"Speechless?" Gabe asks.

Squeeze.

"Fuck. Finally managed a proper 'speechless' and I'm too worn out to gloat," Gabe chuckles weakly. Groaning, he manages to roll onto his side, then worms his way over to close the few inches between them, coming to rest against Sam, who musters enough strength to move his arm out of the way, resting it along Gabe's back once he's settled. They lay like that for long minutes, breathing slowly returning to normal. "Thank you," Gabe says softly, "for giving this, us, a chance."

"No, thank you," Sam rasps, then clears his throat; he'd been so focused on Gabe's cries he hadn't realized he'd been making his own. "You knew I was fooling myself about Jessica and gave me the tools to open my eyes without telling me directly what an idiot I was being. I'm just sorry I didn't use your advice properly."

"That's ok; next time I'll just tell you to stop being an idiot," Gabe laughs.

"Shut up," Sam laughs, hand tapping lightly against Gabe's back in admonishment. "We should really clean up," he adds with a sigh.

"I can't move."

"Neither can I."

"I have an idea," Gabe says, tugging behind himself at the blanket 'til he finds a corner then drags it over his body, using it to wipe the white mess. He takes care of the condom too, not even looking to see if he makes the basket, then gives a final wipe with the blanket. "I say we call that good enough for now, sleep for a while, and then whoever gets up first wakes the other. Then we can have wake-up sex, put the bedding in the wash, then have shower sex, have breakfast, then you can fuck me against the counter while I wash dishes, then-"

"Gabe, you're so sexed out you can't move and you're already planning more sex. Again. I'm glad you asked me to live with you, but we do actually have to leave the house at some point."

"As long as we come back to it together, I can live with that," Gabe smiles.

"Me too," Sam grins, thinking how odd it is that Jess breaking up with him turned out to be a good thing. Imagining the future, he can see it including Gabe; he knows now that Gabe can fit into his plan. But he won't be concentrating on the plan anymore. He'll still keep his goals in mind, but his focus will be on Gabe and him being happy. Because that's what's really important.

**Author's Note:**

> . . . . . . . . . mostly  
>  and they lived ^ happily ~~ever~~ after, the ~~end!~~ beginning!
> 
> so that's it for the main story, hope the ending delivered and everyone enjoyed. Sorry it took longer than expected to get it done, it wound up 8 pages longer than I'd expected. For now, I'm gonna mark the series as complete, though I do expect to come back to it at some point with a chapter story highlighting scenes from their future. but for now, I'm going to work on something else for a bit. thanks very much for reading! as always, corrections, suggestions and comments are greatly appreciated :D
> 
> one other note: I love writing gabe because he's so much fun, but dang his bedroom scenes have me beet-red while I'm writing his dialogue hehe :D
> 
> one new other note; spent the last few days doing a new 'final' proofread on this series, so everything's now been updated and is hopefully correct. though I'm sure next time I read through I'll find more mistakes hehe. never seem to catch them all.


End file.
